


say that you'll hold me forever

by ivelostmyspectacles



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Coping, Couch Cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, Falling In Love, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, MAG159, Season/Series 04 Spoilers, Spoilers, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 15:54:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21182048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/ivelostmyspectacles
Summary: I don't wanna go back to the lonely lifesay that you'll hold me forever"I–I don’t think I want to be alone, right now.”I don’t want you to be alone right now.Post MAG159.Vague sequel towalk beside me, love





	say that you'll hold me forever

“Come home with me.”

Jon doesn’t mean to say it– not like that. He knows that’s… he understands the meaning of the words, after he’s said them, by the way Martin’s eyes widen infinitesimally and how he stares back at him with a mixture of uncertainty and… shock. But Jon hadn’t meant that. He just… he just wants… 

“I– I mean– I’d like you to… to stay–” _ with me– _ “over. And it…” He glances up, at the old nondescript ceiling and pushes the Sight beyond it, up and into Elias’s office, where Elias is just… _ working, _ like nothing ever happened. Oh, he’d been _ surprised _ when Jon and Martin had come back. Jon had felt it through The Beholding, and his and Elias’s bond. Then the shock had turned purely to being _ smug, _ and Jon had stopped trying to Know.

He focuses back on the present, and shrugs a little. “I doubt it’s safe here. Even less than usual. And I… I–I don’t think I want to be alone, right now.” _ I don’t want you to be alone right now. _

His mind’s cluttered, and it’s like his stomach’s in knots. He’s… nervous, still, and scared, and desperately wants Martin to agree. He doesn’t think he can let him out of his sight. Not yet.

He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to again.

But Martin had held his hand as they'd left The Lonely, held onto it as tightly as Jon had wanted to, even, so… maybe it doesn’t matter, right now.

“I–” Martin starts, and Jon can practically _ See _ the response he’s formulating. He stares at him in what he hopes is a _ you aren’t a burden _ kind of way, and Martin looks faintly sheepish. He closes his mouth, and then opens it again to say “… okay,” very softly.

Jon lets out a gust of a breath. Relief. Relaxing. He smiles carefully. “Good. Let’s go.”

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’d followed Martin into the void, but he can tell it’s been days, at least. The Institute is quiet again, albeit still a bit of a mess. He wonders what happened to the Not Sasha, Basira and Daisy, Trevor and Julia, and the rest of the staff here. There’s signs of life, and work being done around the halls, but Jon doesn’t know. He knows he _ could, _if he wanted, but he… he has so very little left of himself to give, just now.

The ride home feels _ loud _ after the realm of The Lonely. The claustrophobic nature of public transport and normal, everyday life feels like it’s going to swallow him whole, after listening purely to ambience. Martin looks pale, too, and Jon’s mind wanders back to Peter, Peter’s statement, how he’d said he just wished everyone would go _ away _ and they had. Or he had.

Jon swallows against the churning in his stomach, and gently presses his shoulder against Martin’s. They can blame it on rush hour, and being tired, and Jon knows that they probably will.

Martin relaxes, just a little, and the train rattles onwards. 

It starts to really hit when they’re walking out of the station, he thinks. It’s not a particularly long walk back to his flat, and it isn’t a particularly chilly day, but he feels Martin start shaking halfway through. Just a little, like it is cold, like he’s running a fever, and he subtly wraps his arms around himself like he’s trying to fend off a breeze. 

And Jon… Christ, Jon’s _ tired. _ He watches Martin tremble from the corner of his eye and feels so _ exhausted, _ feels… feels the Power he’d been using earlier just drain away from him. He had felt the strength of The Beholding, had been able to see the pathways and walk through The Lonely, destroy Lukas and find Martin. But now, now he feels… he feels tired.

Martin shudders, and his hands tighten around his elbows.

“Martin…”

“I’m– I’m okay.” He clears his throat, and turns his head to smile tightly at Jon. “I’m just…”

“It’s been a long day,” Jon says, even though it’s been _ more _ than a long day, or week, or month. It’s inadequate, but Martin nods slowly like he understands, anyway. He probably does, better than any of them.

“Yeah.”

Jon manages a smile himself, just as small and tired, then nods down the footpath that leads to his flat. _ Come on, then, _ he doesn’t say. Martin follows, anyway.

The motion light– the one he’d put in when he’d moved here, a necessary precaution, all things considered, he thought– nearly blinds him when it clicks on. Martin makes a tiny noise of surprise, and Jon lets his hand flutter against his arm. It comes as almost reflex. The beam feels like a spotlight on the two of them, and then Jon drops his hand to unlock the door.

“Make yourself at home,” he says, going to turn on the lamp. He says it halfheartedly, even, knowing his home isn’t particularly… _ homey. _ But it’s a lock on the door and four walls, and a sofa that looks more inviting than it has in… God, Jon doesn’t even know how long.

Martin lingers in the entrance for a moment, still hugging his arms to his chest, and just… looks around. It strikes him this is the first time Martin’s been to his flat. It… it also makes him realize that Peter had been _ right, _ about one thing, at least. He doesn’t know Martin. Not… not in any casual capacity, not past the way Martin takes his tea or the way he chews on his lip when his full concentration’s on reading. He doesn’t know… _ anything _ substantial about him. But he’s here, now, and Jon wants to believe he has the chance to try. He… he so desperately wants to try.

The couch must look inviting to Martin, too, because he suddenly drops his arms and heads for it. Weary, clumsily winding his way around Jon’s piles of newspapers and books and laundry he hasn’t gotten around to. He sits himself on the edge of the cushion and tucks his hands between his knees, hunching over into himself. He looks so… _ awkward, _ Jon’s mind supplies with a tiny quirk of his lips, larger than life in this shitty little sitting room. And it’s nice. It’s so nice.

“Relax, Martin,” he says. He chastises without meaning to, an age-old habit he wants to kick himself for, but– 

But Martin smiles, too. Just a ghost of a thing, but his shoulders slump, and he smooths his hands over his kneecaps instead. “Yeah. Right. Just… your flat,” he says vaguely, and eases himself back into the sofa. “It’s…”

“Pathetic,” Jon says, and this time, it’s a _ real _ smile he gets in return.

“N–No, it’s… um… minimalistic.”

“And messy.”

“You should see my place.” 

“Well, we’ve been busy.”

“Yeah,” Martin says softly, and shrinks a little further back into the cushions. “Yeah…”

_ Yeah, _ Jon thinks, and then… just gravitates towards the sofa himself. He’s _ tired. _ And Martin’s there. And the daunting task of changing clothes, showering, getting himself to bed… he needs a moment to rest. Surely they’ve both earned a moment to rest.

Martin moves in tandem to him when he drops onto the couch, shifting an inch and pulling his limbs in closer. And Jon chases that distance, clears the few centimetres of space that’s between them again. That… nagging sensation to be near, to take his hand like he had when he had led their way out of The Lonely’s realm. Just for the sense of security, just for… just for the both of them, Jon admits, because there’s no _ reason _ he wants to hold onto Martin’s hand now. No reason he should.

But he still wants to, even if he doesn’t.

He settles himself with sitting too close, and… Martin doesn’t move away. Doesn’t appear to notice, even though he must. Or maybe he’s just tired. Or maybe he’s just… Jon doesn’t know. Maybe Martin wants it as much as he does. He doesn’t _ Know. _An uncommon feeling, these days.

Martin stays quiet, and Jon, never one to fill the silence with meaningless babble, does, too.

It gets quiet enough that he finds himself dozing, and then he’s startled back into wakefulness when Martin’s shoulder slumps against his. For a moment, he thinks Martin’s falling asleep, too, and he certainly looks prime for it, but… no. He’s still awake, just offers a timid smile and… _ exists, _ in Jon’s personal orbit and space. 

He’s… he’s never been so grateful.

Jon settles in for the long haul, and revels in the feeling of Martin’s head on his shoulder as he finally drifts off to sleep himself.

**Author's Note:**

> let them go home together and pass out from the sheer exhaustion... let them cuddle... I'm really hitting that 'jon has feelings but he doesn't understand exactly' button... slaps the 'let them struggle to cope now but let them manage with each other's help' button......


End file.
